The Last Time
by gweaz
Summary: House is the only one who ever calls her at this hour and she hates it. And for some reason she can never resist giving him what he wants. This better be the last time. HouseCuddy.
1. Booty Call

**The Last Time**

**Chapter 1:** **Booty Call**

The digital clock on Lisa Cuddy's bedside table read three a.m. when the phone beside it began to ring. Cuddy's arm shot towards it on the second ring, one finger violently jabbing the 'talk' button if only to stop the noise. She was content to just leave it without even listening to what the person on the line had to say. One side of her brain felt she had to answer it, it could be the hospital… The other side said hospital be damned, it was three o'clock in the morning and she had just worked for twenty hours straight. Cuddy knew who it was anyway, and she did not want to be talking to Gregory House in the middle of the night. It was bad enough to be dreaming of him, which is what she had been doing before being interrupted by the phone. Her hunch was confirmed by a muffled voice coming from her receiver that was annoyingly familiar.

She reluctantly picked up the phone and positioned it close to her ear without even opening her eyes.

"It is three o'clock in the goddamned morning, House! I do not need this right now." Cuddy rolled over into a more comfortable position because she knew that he was not about to give up easily.

"Come on, Cuddy, what if there was a patient in need?"

"You diagnosed the patient, he is being treated. You do not have a new patient, nor the opportunity to steal one from someone else. I know for a fact that nothing interesting is going on at the hospital. Nobody spewing strange bodily fluids. No one spontaneously seizing. Nobody with an unusual case of the hiccups. No elves with brain tumors. And nobody's brain is on fire. So, in short, nothing you would be interested in," Cuddy told him in a manor that clearly conveyed her annoyance.

"Geez Cuddy, you know that nobody seizes spontaneously. There's always a reason, duh!" Cuddy rolled her eyes.

"What do you want, House? And if this is a booty call, you are fired. Don't even bother coming in on Monday."

"Now, Cuddy, get that pretty head of yours out of the gutter. This is not a booty call. I would have used my sexy voice for that, obviously."

"Sure," Cuddy said with another roll of her eyes. "Why in the world did you call me at this godforsaken hour, House?"

"I don't feel good," House stated.

"We're not in the third grade anymore, House. Take a cold pill and go back to sleep," Cuddy told him.

"I already did that. It didn't work. And its not a cold, anyway. I think I could diagnose that myself, thank you very much," House said indignantly.

"It's a cold, House. Go back to sleep," she said with a yawn.

"It isn't a cold. The second showing of my delectable take out is evidence enough. It wasn't as good the second time if you were wondering. And in order to go back to sleep a person needs to have been asleep already, which I wasn't."

"House, I'm sorry you don't feel good, but I am not your mother and I have an early day tomorrow. I have to pick my sister up from the airport at seven. I'm hanging up now," Cuddy told him.

"Cuuuddddyy," House whined. "I don't feel good. Can't you come over here and check me out or something?"

"You probably just have the flu, House. And I am not a nurse! Regardless of what you think, I did get my medical degree, just like you."

"Oh come on, Cuddy, we both know that wasn't a _real_ degree. They just didn't want you to feel bad and realize that all those sexual favors over the years were for nothing," House mocked. Cuddy ignored him.

"You don't sound very sick to me," she told him.

"Oh sorry, would you like me to wretch directly into the phone? Would that be better for you?"

"No, thank you," Cuddy said, grimacing. "What would you have me do, House? Get up and drive to the pharmacy in the middle of the night just to buy you some drugs and bring them to you?"

"Now that you suggest it…"

"If it gets you off the phone. I'll be there in a half an hour. But this is the last time." Cuddy hung up the phone and swung her feet to the floor.

"Goddamn you, House!" Cuddy began to get dressed, muttering some choice expletives along the way. Her socks didn't match and she was wearing sweat pants, but Lisa Cuddy truly could not care less. Who the hell was out at three o'clock in the morning, anyway?

Cuddy left her house for the chill spring night and noticed that the only sound she could hear was the quiet humming of the street light. Obviously none of her neighbors were awake at this hour. She was glad for the solitude, for once not being reminded by all the kids playing in the street of the life that she couldn't have.

She got in her car and turned it on, opening the windows, her stereo playing softly through the speakers. Cuddy couldn't help but wonder what it was about Gregory House that made her willing to run around town in the middle of the night. It couldn't be his charm, nor was it his kind nature. There was just something about him that made her forget logic for a while. It wasn't logical to drive around town in the middle of the night for someone who made your life a living hell. It wasn't logical to care whether or not he felt like crap in the middle of the night. It wasn't logical to be dreaming about the bane of your existence. Nothing about this was logical, but Cuddy could not, for the life of her, go back home.

She pulled into the drug store and went inside. Not knowing exactly what it was that ailed him, Cuddy bought a random assortment of pills, gel caplets, and some horribly bitter syrups. She even grabbed some cold medicine, just in case. She took her basket to the front of the store and unloaded it on the counter. Cuddy didn't miss the glance the barely-twenty-years-old cashier gave to her chest and found herself thinking that she preferred House's blatantly rude comments to this kid's obvious ogling. She rolled her eyes, not caring that she was rather scantily clad in her camisole. Men were terrible.

Cuddy left the store, making a mental note to tell House that he now owed her thirty dollars. She sighed and got into her car, driving the familiar route to House's apartment without passing even a single other car on the way there.

She arrived at the apartment and found a parking space a few doors down. She pulled the bag from the passenger seat and walked to his front door. Rummaging through her purse, Cuddy found her "only for booty calls" key to House's apartment. She unlocked the front door and for some reason had to resist the urge to shout, "Hey Lucy, I'm home!" Cuddy had the feeling that this was going to be the start of a very odd day.


	2. Sleepover

**Chapter 2: Sleepover**

"House?" Cuddy called from the front door, setting her keys on a table with at least a week's worth of bills and credit card offers stacked on it. "House, where are you?" There was no response, but she thought she heard a noise from the back of the apartment. She started walking in that direction.

"House, if this is a joke… If you are not seriously ill, I am going to make you wish you never thought of dialing my number in the middle of the night…again." She looked in the bedroom, but it was empty aside from his unmade bed and several garments on the floor. She heard the toilet flush and headed to the bathroom. She knocked on the door.

"House?" No answer. She slowly opened the door and saw House sitting next to the toilet looking absolutely awful. She could easily tell that he hadn't gotten any sleep that night and was, in fact, rather ill. He was pale and she could discern a glean of sweat over his brow. For some reason she began to feel sorry for him.

"Oh, House. Are you alright?" she asked.

"I'll survive," he said rather tersely.

"Here, can I help you get up?" She didn't wait for an answer, but instead grabbed his arm and helped him to sit on the side of the bathtub.

"Thanks," he told her, slightly breathless with the effort.

"You could have told me you were this sick, House. I wouldn't have given you a hard time. You know I am here if you need me."

"I know. That's why I called you. Do you think I would just randomly call you in the middle of the night?... Hold that, I probably would."

"You do, House. At least once a month," Cuddy said with exasperation.

"I do not call you in the middle of the night every month!"

"Oh, sorry, I guess showing up outside of my bedroom, soaking wet doesn't count as a phone call. My mistake," she said flatly. "Anyway, is there anything I can do for you?"

"Yeah, could you grab me a glass of water?" He asked. Cuddy crossed the small room and filled a glass with cool water from the sink. She handed to him and noticed how his hand shook as he reached for the glass. She watched him drink the whole glass in one go and got him another.

"You're lucky you didn't get here a few minutes earlier, Cuddy. You just missed the show." Cuddy grimaced at the image of House curled over the toilet that came to her mind with his comment.

"We should get you in bed, House," she told him. "You are in no condition to be moving about."

"Words I have always wanted to hear from your mouth. The part about the bed," House said with a small grin. Cuddy didn't smile. "Alright fine, give me a hand." Cuddy helped him up as best as she could. Moving House from the bathroom to the bedroom proved no easy feat. His weakness added to his usual difficulty in walking made it an extremely tiring task for both parties. When they reached the bedroom both Cuddy and House flopped onto his bed, exhausted. Both were acutely aware of the fact that their shoulders were touching.

"So… now that I've finally got you in my bed…" House began. Cuddy hit him.

"Don't even start. This is as far as you are gonna get, House," Cuddy said with the smallest of grins. House could be such an idiot at times.

"So you were in my dream tonight, House."

"Oho! I didn't know you had those kinds of dreams about me, Cuddy."

"Oh yeah, it was a good one," Cuddy said in a deliberately sultry tone. House cleared his throat, particularly uncomfortable considering their current location. He nervously resituated himself so that they were no longer touching.

"Yeah. Best dream I've had in a longgg time. We were at the hospital. You were in my office." House gulped. Cuddy was obviously enjoying herself at his expense. "I was wearing one of my favorite pair of red…" she paused, observing her effect on House. She couldn't be sure but she thought she heard a hitch in his breathing. "…stilettos." House sighed. "And do you know what words came out of my mouth?"

"I want you, I need you, let's make some UberCuddies, House?" he suggested.

"No even better," she said with one of her token 100-watt smiles. "I said, 'House, you're fired.' And let me tell you, it felt good."

"Haha, real funny. Let's remember it was just in your dreams."

"Unfortunately," Cuddy said in an undertone.

"What was that?" House asked.

"Nothing, I'm just going to go get your medicine," she told him.

Cuddy reluctantly got up from the bed; she was tired, after all, and went to find the medicines she brought him. Returning to the bedroom she told House his options. He promptly shot down the first three of them, claiming that Cuddy was an idiot for even thinking of them. Finally settling on some all around stomach something or other he took a swig straight from the bottle and scowled at the taste.

"I'd offer you a chaser, but turns out you aren't supposed to have alcohol with this stuff. Wouldn't want you to overdose, or anything," she said with a wink. House began to worry about his wellbeing and began to regret his decision to wake up his boss in the middle of the night. Was he valuable enough to her as a doctor for her not to poison him just for spite? He hoped so, because at this point he felt so bad that he was entirely at her mercy.

Cuddy helped house get his legs into bed and under the covers, taking care to pull the covers up to his chin.

"Are you tucking me in, Cuddy?" he asked in a somewhat awkward tone. Cuddy's eyes went wide.

"Sorry. Mothering instinct, I suppose. Forget it."

"You don't need to tell me twice. That would seriously mess with my fantasies about you. Almost makes me shudder just thinking about it." Cuddy laughed softly. At least he's not feeling so bad that he missed an opportunity to be an ass. If he ever reached that point, Cuddy would begin to worry.

"Get some sleep, House. I'm not driving home at this hour, I'll just crash on the couch for the night. Give me a shout if you need anything," she said before turning to leave.

"Hmm, not worried someone will see your car outside, and start spreading some x-rated rumors around the hospital?" House asked in a scandalous tone.

"Let them. Rumor mill is getting pretty boring anyway. Good night house."

"Cuddy," House said with his eyes closed. She turned to look at him. "This bed is big enough for two, you know." Cuddy saw the corners of his mouth turn up. She smiled.

"I don't want to catch your cooties, House," Cuddy said seriously. "Sweet dreams."

"Oh they will be. You don't have to worry about that," House said suggestively. Cuddy rolled her eyes for yet another time that night and left the room.

She grabbed a blanket and an extra pillow from the closet in the hall and made up a little bed for herself on Houses couch. She was so exhausted by now that the couch looked terribly comfortable and she could have fallen asleep in a gutter if that was all that was available. She lay down in her makeshift bed and was shocked, to her greatest dismay, that House's couch was possibly the most uncomfortable piece of furniture that she had ever been on. She had slept on bare ground that was more comfortable than this, and at least the ground didn't pretend to look comfortable like the couch had.

"Oh well," Cuddy sighed. She decided that she was too tired to move and would just will herself to sleep. She almost succeeded when she remembered that she needed to set her alarm. She undid her watch from her wrist and set the alarm for six o'clock to give herself and hour to get to the airport. She put her watch on the coffee table and turned over in an attempt to get into a more comfortable position.

For the next half hour Cuddy tossed and turned, unable to get a second of rest. Cuddy had never been more uncomfortable in her life. She finally decided that there was no way she was getting to sleep. She sat up and, without even fully realizing what she was doing, she headed towards House's bedroom.

She entered his room and walked to his side, bending over to make sure that he was really asleep. He was. She straightened back up and moved around to the other side of the bed.

"I'm tired," she said quietly to no one in particular as she pulled back the covers. "And House was right, this bed is big enough for two." She sat down on the edge of the bed and sighed out of shear pleasure from the feeling of something soft and inviting beneath her. She slipped her feat under the covers and laid back. "And besides, he's dead to the world," she said, giving herself justification. "He won't even—" she yawned "—know I was here." Cuddy drifted off to sleep, blissfully happy that she had found comfort at last. She sighed in her sleep, inhaling the distinct 'House' smell that had interweaved itself with his bedding. She smiled unconsciously as the man lying next to her entered her dreams for the second time that night.

**A/N:** Hey guys, I would love to know what you think of my story, so please take a second to review. You have no idea how helpful it is in the process when I get a few encouraging words. Thanks!


	3. WakeUp Call

**A/N: **Thanks for all the reviews; I appreciate them more than I can say.

Throughout this chapter any parts written in italics are Cuddy's thoughts. So, without further ado… here's chapter 3. I hope you enjoy!

**Chapter 3: Wake-Up Call**

The morning sun shone into Gregory House's room through the half-open window beside the bed. Neither Cuddy nor House was awake yet and both looked perfectly content in their current positions. During the night Cuddy had resituated herself so that she was half-laying on top of House's chest, her hand resting softly on his stomach.

Cuddy began to stir as the sun finally reached her eyes. She sighed contentedly, unconsciously snuggling in closer to House.

_It can't possibly be morning already. I only just got to sleep. Just my luck! Well, the alarm hasn't gone off yet, so I am not getting up. I'm too comfortable._

Cuddy heard the unmistakable chirp of her cell phone coming from the other room. She made no effort to get up from the bed, still not fully realizing where she was. Cuddy thought she was safely snuggled into House's couch and didn't notice that the ring was too quiet and coming from much too far away.

_No way am I answering that. It is Saturday morning. Lisa Cuddy does not answer to the hospital this early on a Saturday morning. The only person who should be calling me would be Sarah… Oh dear, I should get it. Maybe her plane is delayed. That'd be nice, then I could go back to sleep._

Cuddy opened her eyes and quickly closed them against the offending sunshine that bombarded them. _Wait a second… That was not House's living room. _ Cuddy's eyes shot open. _Oh my God. OH MY GOD! Where am I? I better not be where I think I am…_ Cuddy began to look around the room and realized rather quickly that she was in fact in House's bedroom. _Shit!_ When Cuddy finally realized that she was practically laying on top of House her whole body froze. _SHIT! Cuddy, what the hell have you gotten yourself into? At least he's still asleep. He is still asleep right? Up, down, up, down. Yep, still asleep. _She didn't dare move an inch for fear that House would wake up to find her in this compromising position.

_What am I going to do? What the hell am I going to do? If he wakes up I am NEVER going to hear the end of this… I could just roll over and pretend to be asleep. I can't be blamed for what I do in my sleep… Can I? I could move, verrrry slowly, one body part at a time. That would take forever though. It might be better to do it all at once. Oh, hell! This is not good. What time is it anyway?_

Cuddy very carefully lifted her right arm off of House and glanced at her bare wrist. Her eyes went wide when she saw that her watch was not there. Now that she thought about it she could vaguely remember taking it off to set the alarm and leaving it on the coffee table. _Damn it! _She very slowly lifted her head so that she could see past House's sleeping form to the clock on his nightstand. 7:15. _Shit!_ _Shit, shit, shit! _Cuddy's first instinct was to jump up and run out the door, but she didn't want to risk waking house. She was late though, so had to something.

Cuddy took a deep breath and pressed her eyes closed. She slowly sat up, trying her hardest not to jostle the man that she had been sleeping on. She slowly opened one eye and when she saw that he was still soundly asleep she let out the breath that she had been holding. _Thank God! _She quickly, and carefully stood up and tiptoed out of the room, quietly shutting the door behind her. Had she turned to look at House one last time she would not have been able to miss the smile that was on his face by now.

Cuddy practically ran to the coffee table grabbing her watch and cell phone, which read: 2 Missed Calls. _Probably Sarah, damn._ She ran to the door and slipped on her sneakers. She decided she better leave a note for House so quickly scribbled down that she would come check on him later. She snatched up her keys and left the apartment.

As she was jogging to the car she hit speed dial number two on her phone and waited for her sister to pick up. She unlocked the car and got in, starting it up just as the ringing in her ear stopped.

"Hey, Lise. I was beginning to think you had fallen off the face of the planet," Cuddy's sister, Sarah said.

"Practically," Cuddy muttered as she pulled away from the curb.

"What was that?"

"Nothing, it's just I'm running a little late. I'm sorry," Cuddy said. She really was sorry; she had wanted to be there when her sister got off the plane. She hadn't seen Sarah in almost a year, much too long for comfort.

"Now I know the world has ended. My big sister is never late," Sarah said matter-of-factly. "She's too professional to be late."

"Shut up, Sarah!" Cuddy rolled her eyes. "You make me sound like a stick in the mud." Sarah Cuddy was the artistic type so took every opportunity to make fun of her older sister's business-like ways. "Look, I'm driving so I've got to go. I'll be there in twenty."

"Alright. Love you!"

"Love you, too," Cuddy said. She snapped her phone closed and threw it onto the passenger seat. Cuddy was looking forward to seeing Sarah, especially after the traumatizing wake-up call she had received this morning.

About twenty minutes later Cuddy's car pulled up at the airport. It wasn't hard to spot her sister in the crowd. She was about Cuddy's height with the same dark hair as her sister. She was wearing jeans with some type of peasant top and at least a half dozen necklaces hung from her neck. Cuddy smiled and shook her head slightly at her sister's outfit. _If she claims to be original, why is it that she dresses like every art student I have ever seen?_

Pulling up to the curb, Cuddy parked the car. She got out of the car and closed the door. Turning towards her sister she couldn't help but smile, after all it was contagious, and Sarah was beaming. Cuddy walked around the car and pulled her sister into a tight hug.

"It's been way too long, little sister," Cuddy said into her sister's dark hair.

"I know. I promise I'll be seeing you more often from now on." This comment caused Cuddy to pull back give her sister a questioning look.

"I'll explain later. Right now, I could use a good cup of coffee."

"You and me both," Cuddy said. Just thinking about coffee made her tingle inside. After the night that she had a latte would be to die for. Cuddy popped the trunk and helped Sarah with her bags. _What on earth does she need all this stuff for? There are at least four bags here. That girl never did know how to pack! _Cuddy slammed the trunk and turned to get into the car.

"Hold on a sec, Lise," Sarah said, giving her sister an odd look. "What the hell are you wearing?" she asked. Apparently Sarah had just noticed that her very ' professional' sister was wearing a camisole and sweatpants. Cuddy was just noticing it for herself as well. She certainly had been in a rush to get out of House's apartment.

"Oh… I didn't have anything else," Cuddy said, hoping that Sarah wouldn't ask. The one thing that Cuddy knew about her little sister, however, was that she always butted in, even if she didn't realize it.

"What are you talking about?" she asked skeptically. "You have more close in your closet than JC Penney has in her whole inventory."

"Haha," Cuddy said humorlessly. "One, I do not shop at JC Penney. My clothes are designer. And two, did it ever occur to you that I didn't sleep at home last night?" With that Cuddy left her sister gaping and got into the driver's seat of her car. A second later Sarah joined her sister in the car. She was openly staring at Cuddy.

"What?" Cuddy asked as she turned on the car.

"What do you mean 'what?' You can't say things like that and not plan on explaining," Sarah said in an excited tone that she tried to mask with seriousness.

"What are you talking about?" Cuddy asked, turning towards Sarah. She knew where this was headed, but didn't particularly want to go there willingly.

"Dish!" Sarah exclaimed, her voice coming dangerously close to girlish territory.

"Excuse me?" Cuddy asked incredulously.

"Lisa. Dish."

"What are we in? The seventh grade?" Cuddy asked with a small smile. She could always count on her sister to revert to middle school gossip mode when appropriate.

"Who cares?! Where the hell did you sleep last night?" Cuddy shuddered. There it was. The one question she did not want to answer.

"You don't even want to know…"

**A/N:** So there it is, another chapter. Consider yourselves lucky. There's no way I can keep up this pace, but I'll try. Anyway, let me know what you think so far. How much do you want Sarah to be in the rest of the fic? I'm thinking I might make her relatively involved in the plot. Anyway, any feedback you give me is greatly appreciated. Thanks!


	4. A History

**Chapter 4: A History**

"So is this Greg House the same Greg House as the one from Michigan?" Sarah asked her older sister.

"Yes," Cuddy replied, a little bit worried where her sister was going to take this conversation. Sarah Cuddy and Greg House had met when Cuddy and House knew each other at the University of Michigan and they had not hit it off.

"The asshole Greg House that you were obsessed with and that treated you like trash? The one that you never should have hired to work for you in the first place?" Sarah asked angrily. "It wasn't just bad luck that kept him unemployed for two years, Lisa!"

"I was not obsessed with Gregory House!" Cuddy rolled her eyes. This was a fight that had been going on between her and Sarah more or less since the day that Cuddy re-invited Gregory House into her life by giving him a job when no one else would. Sarah did not approve of House on a number of levels, most not unfounded. There was no question that House was an ass. And he certainly didn't try to find his way over to Sarah's good side during their brief acquaintance.

"Sure. Fine. Whatever, Lisa. I guess you mentioning how much you hated him and how much he annoyed you in every single phone conversation we had for two years isn't obsession. And he did treat you like garbage!"

"Come on, Sarah, that was in college! And what are you talking about? He never treated me any differently than he did anyone else. That's just House, he walks all over everyone." Cuddy hated defending House but, regardless of how much she didn't want to admit it, he took up so much of her time that he was a significant part of her life. Cuddy always hated that Sarah and House got along so poorly, and wanted to do something to change that.

"No, Lisa. He does that with everyone else. He intentionally walks all over them and makes them feel awful about themselves and makes them think that they are insignificant little specks in the grand scheme of things," Sarah said angrily. She took a deep breath and Cuddy could tell that she wasn't done with that particular rant, but interrupted anyway.

"Sarah, you have got to let what he said to you go. It was fifteen years ago! Yeah, House is an ass, but you've got to learn that with him you have to roll with the punches to survive. He just dishes out as much as he can before people actually hate him."

"No, Lisa, that's only with you. With everyone else he doesn't stop. And you didn't let me finish before. House makes everyone around him feel like shit because he can. He treats you like shit because he knows you give a damn. He knows it and still jabs at you until you bleed. He knows how much he can hurt you, and he knows that you would never actually leave."

Cuddy couldn't believe the words coming out of her sister's mouth. Was that really what Sarah thought of House? Did she really think that he was like that? That he would intentionally hurt her just because he liked to? From Sarah's description House actually sounded evil, instead of just a sarcastic SOB.

"Sarah, House is not like that," Cuddy said calmly. "Not really. It may seem like it to you, but the only reason he ever hurt me was because something was going on with him that he didn't know how to handle."

"That isn't an excuse, Lisa!" Sarah said indignantly. "Nobody has the right to tell you that you were just a fling. Nobody has the right to tell you that you would make a terrible mother, Lisa!" she was clearly riled up at the memories. "Yeah, Lisa, I remember those nights. Who did you call when he ripped you apart? Can you really forget all that? How can you be so stupid, Lisa? Can't you see that there isn't anything good about Gregory House? 'Personal problems' are no excuse for treating you like he did." Lisa nearly rear-ended the car in front of her at a red light.

"Don't you dare pretend that you know what House has gone through!" Lisa yelled. "You have no idea, Sarah. You never knew him. Yeah, he treated me like crap when we were in college, and yes it hurt, but you don't know what he was going through. You have no idea what kind of pressure his father was putting on him in college. He couldn't sleep for days after phone calls from home, Sarah! Days! If Greg House has any humanity in him it is in no way because of that man. It's a miracle House made it out of his father's home with any semblance of normalcy." Cuddy sighed. Those memories of House were ones that she had not thought about for years. Thankfully, Sarah remained silent.

Cuddy could clearly remember back to her days at Michigan when she and House had been something more than friends. She could remember being happy despite herself. House had always been an ass, that part was true, but for some reason she had always been drawn to him. Maybe it was the challenge that she liked. She remembered how easily he could get her riled up. House always did know which buttons to push when it came to Cuddy. Every once in a while, however, it wasn't just for fun. Sometimes House would say things to her that cut too deep. She knew that something was wrong; he wasn't the type of person that hurt someone that deeply for fun. She couldn't get him to confide in her, so after a while Cuddy ended it. It seemed like it didn't even faze him, he told her that he didn't care and that she had just been a fling anyway. That comment hurt Cuddy more than she ever let on. It wasn't until years later that Cuddy learned, from Wilson, about House's father.

"You have no idea, Sarah," Cuddy nearly whispered. Maybe it was lack of sleep, or maybe it was just the rush of memories, but all of a sudden she was overtaken by a rush of emotion. She quickly dashed away a tear that had slipped from her eye. Sarah could do nothing but look at her sister. She had no idea what to do, so just waited for Cuddy to continue.

"And now. Now, I deserve everything he can dish out. The only reason he called me a bad mother was because he was in pain. In pain, because of me, Sarah. That's on me, and I can handle that. It's on me because I told Stacy about the surgery. I knew House. I knew he wouldn't want it, and I knew that Stacy wouldn't know the difference."

"Lisa, you did what you thought was best. You saved his life, whether he wants to think so or not," Sarah told her sister.

"That's what I used to think. That's what I told Stacy. I saved his life, but she was right. He didn't see it that way. And he won't ever blame me for it. But I will blame myself. So that's why I take all of his crap; because I know he would never have been like this if it hadn't been for that surgery." She stopped for a second. "He lost a lot of himself that day, and even more when Stacy left. He lost so much that no one can even recognize the good in him anymore. He's not a bastard, Sarah, he just doesn't think that he's worth anyone's time. He pushes everyone away because he thinks that he doesn't deserve their friendship. That's why I won't let him push me all the way out the door. I can still see the old House every once in a while." The car was silent for a short while before Sarah reached over and touched Cuddy's arm.

"Lisa, if it means that much to you, I'll try to see past his teddy bear exterior." Cuddy snorted, cracking the smallest of smiles through her tears. "I didn't know he still meant that much to you," she said sincerely.

"Neither did I," Cuddy said with a sigh. "I certainly didn't want him to…"

**A/N:** So I have no idea where this beast came from. I really didn't intend to get so dramatic, it just kind of happened…. I really hope it was okay and wasn't too much. I promise I'll get back to the light stuff next chapter. I'm not quite sure what came over me. Let me know what you think.


	5. CheckUp

**Chapter 5: Check-Up**

The Cuddy women had reached an unspoken agreement to stop discussing House and Cuddy's history with him. By the time they reached one of Cuddy's favorite coffee shops they were chatting like they always had. Cuddy ordered a no-nonsense, black coffee. Her sister, on the other hand, ordered some vanilla, hazelnut contraption that probably had more sugar in it than anything else. Cuddy had always been jealous of her younger sister's metabolism. Sarah Cuddy was one of those girls who ate all the time and never gained an ounce. She was the type of girl that everyone secretly wished gained fifty pounds when their metabolism came to a crashing halt in her twenties. But to Cuddy's annoyance, Sarah's metabolism was still going strong at thirty.

"Would you like any coffee with your bitterness this morning?" Sarah asked with a laugh, referring to her sister's beverage choice. Cuddy gave her a half-amused glance.

"How is it that you and House don't get along?" Cuddy asked. "Because, cut your hair, put on a suit coat, grab a cane, shoot yourself in the leg and it might as well be House having coffee with me."

"He wasn't shot in the leg, Lisa," Sarah said seriously. "Remember, we went over this in the car. It's your fault he has the limp." Cuddy wasn't sure if it was too early to be joking about it or not, but was happy that Sarah had made an attempt.

"You're right. I guess getting you a muscle infarction would be too complicated. Anyway, House would have a much more masculine coffee."

"Oh, like yours, Lise?"

"Ha ha," Cuddy said humorlessly. "My girlish splurging is spent on clothes, not coffee. What is that whipped, mint crap anyway?" Cuddy asked skeptically.

"It's not mint, it's vanilla," Sarah retorted, the unspoken 'duh' implied by her tone. "And you would like it if you tried it, Lisa."

"Yeah, sure, after all my teeth fall out from all the sugar."

"It's not too sugary, it's sweet. Just like me," Sarah said with a huge grin. Her sister rolled her eyes. Only Sarah would say something so tacky. The women finished their coffees amiably and returned to the car.

"Well, I have to go check on House. You can come, or I can drop you at home."

"So, he's actually sick?" Sarah asked with a grin.

"Yes, of course he's sick. What do you think I was doing at his apartment?" Cuddy asked, looking at her sister. Catching Sarah's grin Cuddy understood and playfully hit her sister in the shoulder. "I am not sleeping with House!" She paused for a second and then added, "technically," in an undertone that her sister did not catch.

"As much as that reunion would be so much fun, I think I'd rather you drop me at your place," Sarah said. "I need to catch up on some sleep anyway. I never could sleep a wink on planes."

"House?" Cuddy called out as she laid her keys on the table by the door. "House, where are you?"

"Right where you left me," came a muffled response from the direction of the bedroom. Cuddy paused for a second before heading in that direction. Surely he meant last night, didn't he? He couldn't have been awake… She dismissed the thought and entered House's bedroom. Cuddy could tell right away that House was better than he had been last night, but was in no condition to be going anywhere today. House opened his eyes a sliver when he heard the door open.

"I feel…like hell," he grumbled. Cuddy could tell that for once in his life he wasn't exaggerating.

Cuddy paused at the door. She hated seeing House this weak. It had always been a problem for her. The reason that she could never keep from writing House a Vicodin script was because she had seen him in withdrawal, and couldn't see him like that again. All she wanted to do now was rush to him and check his temperature and ask if he needed anything. Her latent mothering instincts were kicking in and it was all she could do to resist them. _To hell with it!_

Cuddy rushed over to House's bed, kneeling by his side. House was too tired to even open his eyes or make a crude comment when she placed the back of her hand on his forehead. He was burning up. _That's one hell of a stomach bug. _ Cuddy stood up and walked to the bathroom, grabbing a hand towel on the way and a large mixing bowl from the kitchen. She filled it with water and returned to House's room. He was dozing again as she walked over and knelt by his side. All he could muster was a quiet hum of approval as she placed the damp towel against his burning skin.

"So," House began, "My second favorite Cuddy is in town?"

"Hey! I thought you said you liked my mother," Cuddy said with a smile. House grinned back, his eyes still closed.

"Oh, I love your mother. That woman can make some mean matzo!" Cuddy laughed. "But she doesn't look nearly as good in a two piece." Cuddy hit House in the shoulder with the towel, leaving a dark splotch on his gray t-shirt.

"Yes," Cuddy began apprehensively, "Sarah is in town."

"Hmm, I've always like her," House said thoughtfully, causing Cuddy to raise an eyebrow. She could never remember a time when the two of them had exchanged anything but bitter remarks. "And I think she likes me too. She certainly could have slapped me harder, but you know, she restrained out of the love in her heart."

"I'm sure she's sorry about that, House," Cuddy lied. Although Cuddy hoped that soon that would be true.

"No she isn't. And she shouldn't be. I was an ass."

"Was?" Cuddy asked skeptically.

"Haha," House replied. "People love me. I'm just a warm teddy bear. Everyone thinks so."

"I'm sure if we took a poll, House, it would show that not only did people used to think that you were an ass, but that it is also your current state," she said grimly as she wiped down his neck with the towel.

"Who are you kidding? You just don't know all of my friends," House said mock-indignantly.

"Oh, I'm sorry. I thought I knew all your _friend_. I guess I was just unaware you had any other than Wilson. My mistake."

"Yes, for your information I happen to be very popular in certain crowds," House said with his trademarked pout.

"Oh yeah!" Cuddy exclaimed, slapping herself on the forehead. "I had forgotten all about the strippers and whores! Wow, how could I have made that mistake! A bitter, sarcastic, sadistic middle-aged man… I bet they are just lining up at the door right now. Should I leave?" she asked, pretending to be concerned.

"You have no idea," House said with only the slightest twitch at the corners of his mouth. "I have to beat them off with a baseball bat. But then they just run and get their pimps and things get dirty… I have to call in all my druggie friends, the pimp gets reinforcements... It all ends up looking like a scene from West Side Story, finger snapping and all." He shuddered at the thought of the made up memory. Cuddy chuckled. House could be so absurd sometimes.

"So," Cuddy began, trying to rein House back in again, "Sarah is in town. I've fed her, so she should be okay for the moment. But I really can't leave her unattended in my House for all that long. Sometimes she's as bad as you are regarding my personal space. Although, she never calls me in the middle of the night unless something is actually wrong," Cuddy said thoughtfully. "But when left to her own devices while in my House, nothing is sacred. I really have to get back soon," Cuddy said with a slight sigh, "but I really don't want to leave you alone all day."

"I won't be alone," House said. "The strippers and whores, remember?" Cuddy smiled despite herself.

"I think you should come home with me," Cuddy stated reluctantly. She knew how that sounded, but to her surprise, House didn't take the bate.

"Are you sure that would be a good idea?" House asked.

"House, I don't think that you are in any state to threaten my honor, if that's where you're going with this," she said, rolling her eyes.

"Ha! That's assuming you'd put up a fight. We both know that you can't resist me," House said with a confident arrogance. After a pause he continued, "That's not what I meant, though. I was talking about Sarah. I don't think that she would want me around, and I really don't want to intrude."

"Don't worry about it. I've talked to her about it… sort of."

"Oooh, you've been talking about me?" House said while waggling his eyebrows.

"Shut up. It won't be a problem, House. You can't be on your own in any case," Cuddy said dismissively.

"Look, if you guys are gonna fight about it, I'd rather not. Although, come to think of it if white t-shirts and paddling pools would be involved, count me in." Cuddy rolled her eyes again and House continued on a more serious note, "I know you don't see her much and she's probably not going to be here for all that long, so…" he trailed off.

"Actually I have no idea how long she's staying, she's been pretty vague about it. I don't even know if she's got a flight out yet. Anyway, I'm going to go turn on the shower so that you can get washed up. Think you can make it in there on your own?"

"I should be able to manage," he said as he struggled to swing his legs over the side of the bed. "You know, I'm a big boy now, lace-up shoes and everything!" Cuddy was glad to notice that he was looking marginally better than he did when she first arrived. She left the room and ran the shower. She waited in the living room to give House some privacy as he got ready. She was perusing his book collection when House emerged from the back of the apartment leaning heavily on his cane as he walked towards her.

"Ready to go?" Cuddy asked.

"Straight to the lion's den," House said in affirmation. Cuddy hoped that he was wrong, but tried not to be too optimistic. House's meetings with Sarah in the past had been as far from peaceful as possible to be.

Twenty-five minutes later they were at her house and Cuddy was unlocking the front door.

"Sarah?" she called when she and House had taken off their jackets and she had placed her keys in the bowl by the door.

"In the kitchen," came the reply that Cuddy could tell had been said with a mouth-full of goodness knows what. _Here goes!_

Cuddy entered the kitchen and gasped at the mess.

"I know, I know," Sarah said without looking up. "It's a mess. I'll clean up, I swear. It's just that all I could find around this place was health food. Not an ounce of sugar or preservatives in this whole kitchen!"

"I know!" House said huffily. "No matter how many times I sleep over and tell her to have something good for breakfast. Nothing!" Sarah's eyes had shot up when she first heard House's voice.

"You brought him?" she asked her sister. "I thought you said he was sick."

"He is—"

"Nice to see you, Sarah. It's been way too long," House said with mock-sincerity. "Still finger painting?" Sarah smiled in an entirely too cheery way that was more than slightly ominous.

"Still popping pills?" Sarah said with an evil glint to her eye.

"Well, they tried to make me go to rehab," House said seriously, "but I said, 'no, no, no."

_Oh dear… This is going to be a long weekend._

**A/N:** So after a rather long hiatus, that's the next chapter. I hope you guys liked it. I especially like the rehab part, that song cracks me up. I'd love it if you left a review, even though I've been neglecting you so badly, it still helps a ton. Thanks!


	6. Game Night

**Chapter 6: Game Night**

By noon in the afternoon the tension was mounting. So far no actual physical blows had been thrown, but the number of backhanded remarks was increasing by the minute. Sarah had told Cuddy that she would try to be nice to House, but she had forgotten just how awful he was. She had no idea how her sister could stand being with House for more than a few minutes at a time; clearly Lisa had a thicker skin than her.

Cuddy noticed that her two guests were looking at each other with more and more resentment as time passed and decided that she needed to intervene somehow.

"I ought to go check and make sure everything is alright at the hospital," she announced to the room at large.

"But it's Saturday!" House exclaimed. "I thought we were going to stay in our pajamas all day and watch cartoons," he pouted. "Or at least a little porno, I mean, come on, where's the fun at Princeton Plainsboro?" Cuddy ignored him, but she noticed that Sarah gave him a scathing look.

"You want to tag along, Sarah?" Cuddy asked. "You haven't seen the hospital in a while," she offered.

"I don't know. Hospitals have always been your thing, Lise…"

"You could always hang around with me," House suggested with a smile. "I'm sure we could find something we both like. Unless…" he began excitedly, "you're not into girl on girl too, are you?"

"I'll get my coat," Sarah said immediately. The women made their way to the entry way, and as she was closing the door Cuddy distinctly heard House say, "And when you get home, we can play pictionary!" _What in the world is he going on about?_

Several hours later the Cuddy women were still in her office. Sarah was lounging on the couch twirling her hair in her fingers and looking distinctly bored, while her sister was working at the desk.

"This is almost worth watching porn with House," Sarah said with a sigh.

"I'm almost finished, I promise," Lisa told her. "It's just that… this doesn't make sense," she said, mostly to herself, referring to the paper that she was holding. "Hmmm, I think I'm going to need to go check something out at the clinic." She stood up and put on her lab coat. "This order form is all wrong. I'll be back in a few minutes," she said as she left the room.

Sarah got up off the couch and moved to sit in her sister's chair. She pulled out her iPod as she started up Minesweeper on Cuddy's computer. When she put in the earbuds she was greeted with the pleasant sounds of her favorite playlist.

The music was loud, so she didn't notice when Wilson walked into the office. She was not the only one to not notice anything amiss; Wilson was looking down at a file as he was speaking to her.

"I've got a patient here who has terminal liver cancer, which is usually a death sentence. She is doing very well though, remarkably well. Her insurance, however, is dead in the water; refuse to pay for any more treatment because they figure that none of the treatments that we can give her will cure her," he said angrily, still without looking up. "I'm glad all of them over in the insurance industry have medical degrees! It makes everything so much easier; if they don't think that the patient needs it, then who cares what the trained doctors think. Obviously their medical opinion is much more accurate!" He paused for a second, still fuming over the injustices of the world that is medical insurance.

"I was wondering if we could possibly get her into a trial for a new type of medicine. Insurance wouldn't have to cough up a penny. What do you think?" he asked, finally looking up. He was shocked to see that it was not Cuddy sitting in her desk. He had been sure that it was, though, when he looked in through the door. _I guess, with her head down, she looks like Cuddy. Same hair._

"You're not Cuddy," he said, stating the obvious. Sarah did not respond. Wilson looked at her warily, wondering if she was deaf. It was then that he noticed the white cords dangling from her ear. He leaned over and tugged the wires so that the head phones fell from her ears. She immediately looked up, slightly perturbed that someone would so rudely interrupt her solitude.

"You're not Cuddy," Wilson stated again.

"Yes I am," Sarah said simply. Wilson looked confused. Was his eyesight going?

"Sarah Cuddy," Sarah said, smiling as she raised her hand to shake his.

"James Wilson," he responded slowly, grasping her hand.

"It's a pleasure to meet you," Sarah said, beaming. _Finally, something to do in this god-forsaken place._ Wilson had a peculiar look on his face, but then shook his head as if trying to unseat a fly.

"Uhh… So, where is your…" he paused, "sister?" Wilson asked with one eyebrow raised, slightly unsure of himself.

"What did you think I was? Her long lost daughter?" Sarah asked with a laugh. Wilson's eyes flew open.

"No, it's just that she never said anything about her family. I always assumed she was an only child. I don't know why really…" he trailed off. "Huh," he said. After a long pause he continued, "So where is Cuddy, anyway?"

"Right here," Sarah responded.

"You know what I mean," he said, rolling his eyes. Sarah smiled. Clearly this Cuddy got a lighter sense of humor than the no-nonsense Lisa Cuddy that he was used to.

"She said something about a clinic," Sarah offered, already putting her earphones back into her ears and turning back to the computer. Wilson walked to the door, giving her one last skeptical glance over his shoulder as he left the room.

"House?" Cuddy called a couple hours later as she entered her house.

"Living room," came his muffled surprised. Cuddy started towards the living room, bracing herself for the worst; who knew what House could have gotten up to all day alone in her house. She and Sarah entered the living room and she was shocked, although it was not quite what she expected.

"Did you ladies bring you're 'A Game?'" he asked them from the couch. It seemed like House had found every single piece of food in her kitchen that had sugar in it and gathered them onto the coffee table. There was a large bowl of popcorn and even some candy corn that Cuddy could not remember buying.

"What is going on in here?" she asked.

"Pictionary. Duh." Obviously he was feeling better.

"What are you talking about? And what is all this junk?"

"Well, we'll need provisions, won't we?" he asked her seriously. "You clearly have never played Pictionary properly." He was met with blank stares. "Okay… I think all that's missing is the actual game… Now, I looked everywhere. Well almost… Although I don't know what you would be doing storing your board games in your lingerie drawer," he said, pretending to wonder about it. Disregarding the nasty look Cuddy was giving him, he said, "but I definitely didn't look in there." He didn't even bother to hide his crossed fingers behind his back.

"It's not like you haven't seen it before," she said with a sigh.

"What?" Lisa exclaimed, obviously wondering why Gregory House would have seen her sister's lingerie drawer.

"He broke in—"

"I had a key," House interrupted, but Cuddy ignored him.

"He broke in on the pretense that there was evidence pertaining to the case in my house."

"Pretense? I found some very convincing evidence…"

"Shut up, House! My panties, the panties that you _stole_, had absolutely nothing to do with the case!"

"Alright," Sarah said, trying to get the two to stop bickering. "I really don't care what House did with your panties. I guess I shouldn't have asked."

"So where do you keep your board games, Lisa Cuddy?" House asked. "Are they locked in the basement with all of your other guilty pleasures?"

"I don't have any board games," she said honestly. House made a noise like he had been physically wounded.

"No board games? This is a much worse situation than I had feared." He pulled out his cell phone and jabbed the keypad with his finger. He put the phone to his ear and waited for a minute before enigmatically saying, "We've got a code black." He listened for a second, then rolled his eyes. "It's the sidekick's job to know all the code names… Yes, even if I haven't told you what they are!... Yeah, sure. You say that now… We're gonna need Pictionary, some drinks, and," he paused, looking at the table, "some potato chips, sweedish fish, and some marshmallows." Cuddy inwardly cringed; just thinking about having all that junk food in her House was enough to make her nauseous. Sarah, on the other hand, looked unfazed. House then told whoever it was on the phone, presumably Wilson, Cuddy's address and hung up.

"Situation averted," House said officially. "We needed another player anyway," he added with a shrug.

"So we have no choice in the matter?" Cuddy asked House. "Even though this is my house?"

"You have a say," House began, "but then I would have to call Wilson back and tell him it's off. He would be so disappointed. Doesn't get out much," he added in explanation for Sarah. Cuddy sighed, House could tell that she had given in, as she always did.

"Fine," she said rather shortly. "I'm going to take a shower. And no," she said, noticing House's excited expression, "you cannot watch." House pouted. "Behave yourselves," Cuddy warned when she realized that she would be leaving House and her sister in the same room.

Twenty minutes later Cuddy re-entered the living room with wet hair and wearing her Michigan sweatpants. To her relief she saw that House and Sarah appeared to be having a civilized conversation, or argument, rather, about modern art.

"It's a bunch of crap!" House exclaimed. "All it is is paint poured onto canvas, or lines cut out of paper. I make better art every day just by flicking tooth paste onto the mirror!"

"It's not about the picture, it's about the emotion, the energy," Sarah said vaguely. Cuddy rolled her eyes, perfectly mirroring the expression on House's face.

"I'd take Van Gogh and Monet any day over that mass-produced, print-out crap," House said with a measured amount of disgust. The door bell rang, so Cuddy left the room to answer it. She didn't hear Sarah's response, but was sure that it was along the lines of 'agree to disagree.' She opened the door to find James Wilson on her doorstep juggling a large shopping bag, a pictionary box, and a six pack of beer, all while trying to look at a small slip of paper.

"I'm sorry, I don't even know if this is the right house. Do you happen to know a Greg-" he finally looked up. "Cuddy? What the hell?"

"Come on in Wilson," Cuddy said with a sigh as she moved out of the way of the door.

"I'm sorry," he began, "House called me, said he was here. I should have known he was kidding. I didn't know it was your house, or else I really wouldn't have come. Obviously," he said looking at her clothes, "you have other plans for this evening."

"Unfortunately, that doesn't seem to be the case." Wilson gave her a questioning look. "House is in the living room," she offered as explanation. Wilson, bless him, did not ask any questions, but instead headed toward the back of the house.

"Alright! The reinforcements have arrived. Are you ready to kick some ass, Wilson? Beacause even though they are girls, well at least one of them is," House added, throwing Cuddy a skeptical glance, "that does not mean you go easy. Go hard, or go home." House looked around the room, but no one seemed to be nearly as excited as he thought. He didn't let that stop him.

"Okay. Rules. One—" he paused. "Hang on, we need some music. You," he said, pointing to Sarah, "go turn on the radio."

"Excuse me?" Sarah asked, not keen on taking orders from House.

"I would do it, you see, but bum leg…" he shrugged and pointed to his cane. Sarah rolled her eyes and walked over to the stereo. She turned it on and the room was flooded with the sounds of the newest Josh Turner song. All the heads in the room swiveled to Cuddy.

"So I like country music! Is that a criminal offense?" Cuddy asked as her cheeks flushed.

"It should be," House said, looking as if he had just smelled something rotten.

"I'll just go grab my iPod, shall I?" Sarah offered. She left the room to go find her coat. House, Cuddy and Wilson sat awkwardly listening to the music as it changed from Josh Turner to Lonestar. A few minutes later Sarah reentered with her red iPod, complete with its own set of mini speakers. She hooked everything up and pressed the play button. The synthesized intro to Baba O'Reilly started up. House smiled.

"Much better. At least one Cuddy has some taste," he said. Sarah smiled, Clearly she appreciated the compliment.

"So! Rules. One: No words. Two: No talking."

"House, we know the rules to Pictionary!" Cuddy said.

"Well you are the one who didn't own the game. How was I supposed to know you knew how to have fun? I mean, there was that one night… but you were drunk, so I wasn't sure that counted."

"Shut up and play the game."

"Alright. This will be a tournament. The player with the most wins will be crowned, yes crowned," he said, pulling out a tiara from under the nearest pillow. "Found that in your bedside table, if you were wondering," he said to Cuddy. "Anyway, they will be crowned the Ultimate Pictionary Champion. And watch out, Wilson's gonna be gunning for that tiara, it's just his taste." 

"Thanks, House. Thanks for that," Wilson said insincerely. "So what are the teams then?"

"I figure it would be appropriate to divide in the only way possible: Bros," he said gesturing to himself and Wilson, "versus Hos," gesturing towards the women. Wilson chuckled and the Cuddys glared at him.

"Let the games begin! And remember ladies, 'All's fair in love and war.'"

"You don't have to tell me that, House," Sarah said. "I just hope you don't cry when you lose. Nobody likes an invalid who cries." Wilson laughed out loud and Cuddy's mouth fell open. House only gave her a wicked smile.

House and Sarah were the first up. They drew a card looked shocked and prepared to draw.

"Ready?" Cuddy asked. They nodded, too intent on their task to answer. "Go!" she said as she flipped the timer. The tournament was on.

Three hours later Sarah was sitting back, tiara on her head, looking content.

"Wilson! Are you kidding me? That does not look anything like Mt. Rushmore!" Cuddy shouted, throwing the wadded piece of paper into his face.

"Are you kidding? It's not my fault you are blind! Look," he said smoothing out the paper, "There's Washington, and Lincoln, and Roosevelt, and Wilson."

"Wilson wasn't on Mt. Rushmore, you moron!" Cuddy shouted. Wilson looked confused.

"Let me see yours," he said to Sarah. She handed him the slip of paper that was in front of her on the table. On it was a nearly perfect rendition of Mt. Rushmore.

"Jefferson? My mother always said it was Washington, Lincoln, Roosevelt and Wilson!"

"Huh, I wonder why that is, _Wilson_," House said sarcastically. Understanding dawned on Wilson's face.

"Great! I got a moron of a partner. Fantastic!" Cuddy exclaimed

"Hey!" Wilson said, insulted.

"Yeah, hey!" House said. "We all had to have him too, you know."

"Oh, he wasn't that bad," Sarah said. "He won when he was with me, didn't he?"

"Yeah," Wilson said, glad that someone was coming to his aid.

"Yeah, you guys won… thanks to the new psychic powers you seem to have developed. It certainly wasn't his drawing skills."

"You know what, I don't have to take this abuse," Wilson said indignantly. "I'm going home." He got up, grabbed his coat headed to the door. "I'll see you at work," he said and left.

"Oh no! Do you think he was really upset?" Sarah asked after the door closed.

"No, Wilson is used to me handing it to him every time we play anything. He'll be over it by Monday."

"Oh, ok. So, House, how does it feel to be beat by a girl?"

"I'm used to it, aren't I?" he asked. She raised her eyebrows in question. "Well I work for your sister, don't I? And I'm a very naughty boy. She has to take out the ruler on a daily basis."

"Be glad that's all I use, House," Cuddy said warningly. "How does it feel to be the Ultimate Pictionary Champion, Sarah?" Cuddy asked rather bitterly.

"Wonderful. I don't have a degree in art for no reason, you know. All those years when Mom and Dad said it would never do me any good. If they could only see me now," Sarah said nostalgically.

"Yeah too bad they're at home in Michigan. I'm sure they're sad that they missed it," Cuddy said. "Although, I'm not sure I would call all that art."

"What are you talking about? They were masterpieces!"

"Come on! That was just a bunch of stick figures and squiggly lines!"

"What do you think, House?" Sarah asked the silent man.

"No comment," he said with a smile.

"What are you smiling about?" Cuddy asked him viciously.

"Nothing. I always suspected you had one. Never saw it, but I always knew."

"Had one what?"

"A competitive streak. I mean, how does a woman get into your position without being a total bitch? And by bitch," he said after she gave him a particularly nasty look, "I mean a competitive and very professional woman."

"Oh, so all successful, professional women are bitches?" Cuddy asked, her temper rising.

"You said it, not me," House said.

"Alright, I think I'm gonna go to bed now," Sarah said awkwardly, trying to avoid being pulled into an argument. She needn't have said anything though, neither House nor Cuddy noticed when she said something. She slipped out without them noticing.

"You really are an ass, House," Cuddy said resignedly.

"I'm rubber and you're glue. Whatever you say—"

"Shut up!" It was remarkable how much House resembled a six-year-old. She went to say something else, but was interrupted by a yawn. "I'm too tired to drive you home, so you'll just have to sleep on the couch." House pouted. "I'll get you some sheets to make up the _couch_."

Fifteen minutes later Cuddy was in bed and had never been happier to have her head hit her pillow. Could it only have been that morning that she had been cautiously disentangling her limbs from House's? It really had been a long day. Cuddy only got to enjoy the feeling for a few minutes before her eyes shot open as she felt her mattress dip.

"What the hell do you think you are doing, House?"

"Getting into bed, isn't that obvious?"

"You don't think that this is a bit presumptuous on your part?" she asked, irritated to the max at his complete disregard of her personal space.

"What, are you kidding? We sooo had a moment during Pictionary," he said and Cuddy could easily picture 'duh' look on his face as he said it. "I mean, that one time… You were clearly drawing you and me getting into bed together!"

"That was a space ship, House!"

"Don't worry, I think I was the only one that wasn't fooled. Wilson was too busy staring at your sister's chest, and she was too busy drawing something out of E.T. to notice." Cuddy rolled her eyes. "Seriously though, I can't sleep on the couch. Unless I want some serious pain in the morning, I can't have my leg like that." Cuddy didn't respond, but she didn't kick House out of her bed either.

"What do you think of her anyway?" Cuddy asked.

"Sarah? She's okay. Doesn't seem to hate me as much as she used to. I don't think that she tried to hit me all night. Actually the only Cuddy that seemed to resent my existence tonight was you," house said. "It was quite refreshing having a woman not mock me every three seconds, actually."

"Oh quit complaining. You like it. And quit crushing on my sister, if you don't mind," Cuddy mumbled as she settled back in to sleep.

"Don't worry, she's not the one that I want," House said simply. Again Cuddy's eyes flew open, she didn't move a muscle though, figuring that if she didn't move House would think that she was asleep. House didn't say anything more, so Cuddy decided to ignore it. Now though, she wasn't even remotely tired. A few minutes later she felt house piling something between them. She rolled over to find a small stack of throw pillows effectively splitting the bed into two areas.

"What are these, House? The Walls of Jericho?" She asked sarcastically.

"Well," House began, "I wouldn't wan tyou to take advantage of me while I was asleep." Cuddy blushed and was thankful for the darkness of her room. "Although I'm not sure how successful they will be. Turns out I am much more irresistible than Clark Gable." Cuddy was surprised that he had caught the reference. "They took a poll."

"Good night, House," Cuddy said.

"Don't let the bedbugs bite!"

**A/N: **Hurray! Another chapter done. And this was quite the long chapter, so I would appreciate more than ever a really great review. Remember, the more you review, the happier I will be and the faster I will be able to update. Anyway, this really was a long chapter, so it would be awesome if you could give me a couple of words about what you think so far. Thanks!


	7. IOU

**Chapter 7: IOU**

_Goddammit! Not again!_ Cuddy had just woken up to find her limbs entwined with House's for the second morning in a row. _It's too early for this shit. Let him be the awkward one today. I'm going back to sleep. _Cuddy easily fell back to sleep using House's chest as a pillow. Deep in her subconscious she knew that she shouldn't be in any situation that involved both her and House occupying the same bed, but she was too tired and much too comfortable to care; it had been way too long since she had woken up next to a warm body.

When Cuddy had gone back to sleep she had done it thinking that when House finally woke up he would have done what she had done the previous morning—carefully and quietly get the _hell_ out of dodge. Apparently she and House did not share the same thought process.

"Good morning," he said a little bit drowsily as Cuddy began to stir. She groaned.

"Good morning," she said, resigning to the inevitable. She was surprised, though, to realize that she didn't have the immediate reaction of jumping out of bed as soon as possible, but decided that it was because she was still half asleep and left it at that. Neither House nor Cuddy made a move to get out of bed. Cuddy thought House had fallen back asleep after nearly five minutes had passed and he had not said a word.

"Ever heard of 'coyote ugly'?" he asked suddenly.

"I don't think so," she responded, still with her eyes closed.

"Ever wake up sober after a one night stand, and the person you're next to is lying on your arm, and they're so ugly, you'd rather chew off your arm then risk waking 'em?"

"Shut up!" Cuddy exclaimed, kicking his leg with her own. She could feel his chest rise with silent laughter, and could almost hear a slight smile in his response.

"That's coyote ugly."

"Mhm, so you're saying you want me to get up?" she asked, throwing all her caution to the wind.

"Well I do like my arm. I've had it as long as I remember." If Cuddy's eyes were open she would have rolled them for yet another time.

"So take your damn arm back!" she said, rolling so that she was nearly on top of him. She felt him reaching around with his newly unpinned arm and a few seconds later sighed as she heard the distinctive sound of pills rattling in a bottle. Nothing like Vicodin to kill the moment. She pushed herself up into a sitting position and looked House in the eye, sadly wondering if he would ever change. He didn't back down, but instead intently held her gaze. As if accepting a challenge, House imperceptibly nodded and put the pill container back on the bedside table. Cuddy smiled widely and without even thinking about it leaned down to give him a kiss on the lips. It was short and more of a peck than anything else, but when she pulled back she was surprised to see that House was smiling.

"I am going to kick myself later," he stated with a regretful tone. Before Cuddy could ask him what he was talking about House's hand had found the back of her neck and he pulled her towards him for a much deeper kiss. Cuddy's eyes slipped closed and she reveled in the feeling of his mouth on hers. "Because I know that you are just soo into me right now," House said sarcastically in between kisses. Cuddy didn't even bother to respond, knowing full well that it had been a _very_ long time. They continued to kiss, letting their hands roam where they may until House suddenly pulled away and said, "but… nature calls." He then got out of bed as quickly as it was possible for him with his leg. Cuddy was left to lay there in shock, her chest heaving slightly. Cuddy rolled onto her back and sighed loudly. She unconsciously touched her lips with the tips of her fingers as she thought of what had just happened and what it could mean. _Goddamn you, House!_

The next few days passed without incedent. House was his usual snarky self and Cuddy grudgingly put up with him. Neither House nor Cuddy mentioned what happened Sunday morning and Cuddy tried to give it as little thought as possible.

Sarah had decided to go join Cuddy for lunch on this particular day, but her sister didn't have time to spare, so was currently on her cell phone ordering food in Cuddy's office. Cuddy was sitting at her computer when House, as usual, burst into her office. Cuddy had been suspecting a visit from House at some point in the day; she had forbidden his team from performing expensive lab tests without her approval.

"I need those tests!" House shouted, earning a scathing look from Sarah who seemed to be having communication problems on the phone.

"If you need them done it shouldn't be a problem to explain to me why you need them. I don't need my lab techs being flooded with your every whim."

"My whims are what are keeping this patient from pushing up daisies!"

"No, House, your whims are what are causing this hospital thousands of dollars. Not knowing what is wrong with the patient does not mean order every test possible."

"Well, you'll be glad to know that when he dies we won't be able to do any tests!" House sneered. Cuddy rolled her eyes.

"Stop being overly dramatic. You'll figure something out, House, you always do. You wouldn't be here if your patient was in critical condition, so get out of my office and don't come back until you have a good reason to waste my time and the hospital's money!"

"Imminent death isn't good enough a reason?" he asked sarcastically. "Because that's what will happen if I don't get those damn tests!"

"No, House, he will die because you don't know what is wrong with him. Figure out a plausible explanation and you can have your tests." House glared at her and stormed out of the office. Cuddy sighed.

"Food's on the way," Sarah said with an annoyed tone. "Although, I am not sure if we will end up getting General Tsao's chicken or Mushu pork; he didn't speak the best English, turns out."

"It's all the same to me," Cuddy sighed. "I'm famished."

"What was that all about?"

"Oh, that? You know how house is… That's pretty much a regular day at the office for me. Better than usual, actually. House doesn't normally give in."

"Wow, and here I thought you were sleeping with him!" Sarah exclaimed. "Clearly nothing has changed between the two of you since the last time I was here." Cuddy blushed before she quickly turned back to her computer, but her sister didn't seem to notice.

Twenty-five minutes later there was a knock on the door followed by Wilson walking in.

"Are you aware that House is practically on a reign of terror out there?" he asked. "What did you do? You didn't cut him off his vicodin again, did you?"

"I told him he couldn't have any more tests until he gave me a legitimate reason for them. So far he has no idea what is going on with the patient, and that does not give him license to try everything in the book. We practice medicine here, not guess and check. House has got to learn how to stop wasting hospital resources," Cuddy stated defensively. She was not in the mood to explain herself to Wilson. "Is there any reason, other than House, that you needed to see me?" she asked.

"Umm… No, I think that was it. Unless you guys want to join me for lunch?" he asked cautiously.

"We've got some Chinese on the way," Sarah told him.

"Alright," Wilson said, turning to leave the office. "See you later."

"I always end up ordering way too much food," Sarah said. "You're welcome to join us if you want."

Wilson looked down at his watch and nodded. "Yeah sure, my next appointment is at 2:30, so I've got time. Is that alright?" he asked Cuddy.

"It's okay with me as long as you don't start talking about House." Wilson put his hands up in a mock-surrendering manner and walked to the couch to sit next to Sarah and wait for the food.

A half an hour later the three of them were eating their Chinese food and chatting amiably when House threw the door open and limped into the room. He looked that the group and gave Wilson a particularly nasty glare.

"He's got neurosyphilis," House stated. "Now can I pretty please do a blood test to confirm?" he asked in a falsely charming tone complete with his patented pout and puppy dog eyes.

"Yes, but if I find out from any of your little 'ducklings' that you are lying to me just to get a test, your ass is mine."

"If you want my asss, Cuddy, all you have to do is ask," House said. "Just make sure you ckeck in with your pimp," he continued, nodding towards Wilson, making him turn a bit red, "before you come over. You know how I don't like getting on their bad sides…"

House took the egg roll that was sitting on Wilson's plate and took a large bite out of it as he left the room. Wilson gave him and angry look, Cuddy heaved a rather large sigh, and Sarah just shook her head in disbelief.

"You know," Cuddy began, "maybe I will fire him someday…"

"You won't fire him," Wilson said morosely. "No matter how much you want to."

"Why is that," Cuddy asked, honestly wondering what it was about House that made both her and Wilson forgive him for anything.

"I have no idea. Maybe it's—" He stopped speaking when Cuddy swiftly got up from the couch and ran to her bathroom. Wilson and Sarah looked concerned when they heard retching noises from behind the door. Sarah went into the bathroom to see if she could be of assistance. A few minutes the sisters reemerged, Cuddy looking a bit worse for the wear.

"What was that all about?" Sarah asked.

"I don't know. I've been feeling like crap all day," Cuddy said.

"You don't think you're…" Wilson said, trailing off.

"I'm what?"

"Pregnant?" he suggested warily.

"Pregnant!" Sarah exclaimed. "How could you be pregnant! You told me you weren't sleeping with him!"

"I am not sleeping with House," she said angrily to her sister, noticing Wilson's skeptical look. "And I am _not_ pregnant." She knew this to be true, because no matter how tired she had been, there was no way that she would have had sex with House without knowing it. "It must have been the Chinese food," she said in explanation. "I feel much better now."

"Are you sure," Wilson asked. She nodded. He looked at his watch and realized with a shock that it was already ten after two. He said goodbye to Cuddy and Sarah and left the office.

"You sure you're alright, Lise?" Sarah asked.

"I'm fine, I don't know what came over me."

"Okay. I'm gonna head back to your house then," Sarah said, picking up her jacket. She noticed that Wilson had left a folder on the table and picked it up. "Should I take this to Wilson?" she asked her sister.

"He'll be back for it," Cuddy said, glancing at the file. She could see that it wasn't anything all that important.

"It's no trouble; I'm on my way out anyway," she shrugged. "He's in oncology, right?"

"Yep. Down the hall and to the right. There are signs you can follow."

"I think I can find my way around, big sister," Sarah said with a smile.

"Hey, I'm not the one that got herself lost in a Kmart," Cuddy said suggestively.

"I was six. See you at home, loser." She took the file and left Cuddy's office, shutting the door behind her. Cuddy was left with a big smile on her face. She liked having her little sister around. She was starting to feel less lonely than she had been in along time. For a while it seemed like Cuddy didn't even remember how to laugh, or even smile. She only wondered how long she was to expect this visit from her sister to last; Sarah had the bad habit of being very bad at planning anything, from what she was having for lunch to any type of long term plans.

Sarah knocked on the door marked James Wilson, MD and waited for a response before entering.

"Come in," she heard through the door. She walked in and smiled when she saw that Wilson was intently studying a file with a pencil between his teeth. He glanced up at her and quickly removed the pencil from his mouth and flattened his ruffled hair.

"You left this in Lisa's office," Sarah offered, handing him the file.

"Oh, thank you," Wilson said. "You didn't have to. I could have easily gotten it tomorrow."

"It was no trouble, really. Although, they might want to think about giving visitors a map to this place. I took at least three wrong turns along the way," Sarah said.

"Really? I've never heard of it being a problem before. I think there are signs…"

"Lisa always did tell me that I was directionally challenged," Sarah said with a grin. Wilson laughed quietly as he searched for the proper place for the file in his cabinet. Sarah used the opportunity to look around his office. She noticed the posters on his wall.

"Vertigo? Are you a Hitchcock fan?" she asked amusedly.

"Of course! Who isn't?" Wilson asked.

"A lot of people actually," Sarah said. "I do not happen to be one of them, though. I _love_ Hitchcock. I can barely watch thrillers these days," she sighed. "They just do not compare."

"You're kidding me! I know exactly what you are talking about. Give me Vertigo and Spellbound anytime over the crap they seem to be spewing out these days," Wilson said adamantly. "I can't believe you are a Hitchcock fan."

"Why not? I happen to be very versed in old films, if you were wondering."

"There's actually some Hitchcock marathon thing going on at the theater down the street from my place tonight. I think they are playing _Notorious, Rear Window_, and _North by Northwest_."

"All the best," she said seriously.

"I was planning on checking it out, maybe just staying for _Notorious_, if you wanted to join me," he suggested.

"I'd love to! I honestly don't think that you could persuade me not to go, actually. Hitchcock and Grant happen to be my two favorite men," she sighed heavily. "The downfall of old movies: falling helplessly in love with men who have been dead for twenty years," she said, legitimately upset. Wilson laughed.

"I agree with you about Hitchcock and Grant, but _Notorious _is all about Bergman. Now there is a knock-out!"

"I can't argue with that. I've got to get home, and you," she said, looking at her watch, "are late for your appointment." It was already 2:35.

"Shit," he said quickly gathering up his lab coat and file, practically running out the door.

"What time are you picking me up?" Sarah shouted after him.

"Seven thirty!"

"See you then," she said with a smile as she watched him run down the hall.

"Wilson?" Cuddy asked, slightly confused as to why James Wilson was ringing her doorbell. "What are you doing here?" He opened his mouth to answer, but was interrupted by Sarah entering the room. She was wearing a very nice blouse that went perfectly with her hair that Cuddy recognized as her own and a pair of jeans that left practically nothing to the imagination. She grabbed her coat and practically ran out the door, pulling Wilson along in her wake.

"See you later, Lisa!"

Cuddy just stood in her doorway in disbelief. What was her chief of oncology doing taking her baby sister out on a date? Eventually she came to her senses and shut the front door, wondering to herself what she would do with her, now completely empty, evening.

Twenty minutes later Cuddy was decked out in pajamas with a large bowl of popcorn watching _Gone with the Wind. _From the second it started with its legendary sweeping title screen she was completely drawn in. It was not until her eyes were brimming with tears at the closing credits that she noticed anything besides the amazing Technicolor of the 1930's that was emitting from her television. It was past midnight and Sarah was still not home. As Cuddy was cleaning up the spilled popcorn and tidying her living room she started to feel a bit nauseous. Figuring it was just the popcorn, she decided that she should call it a night, Sarah or no Sarah; she wasn't her mother, after all. Cuddy walked to her bedroom and got under the covers. She made herself comfortable only to jump out of bed a few minutes later and dash to the bathroom.

Cuddy sat next to the toilet feeling utterly awful after she flushed away the remainder of the popcorn. She felt her forehead and noticed that it seemed quite hot. She pulled herself up to a standing position and rummaged around in her medicine cabinet until she found her digital thermometer. She stuck it in her mouth and sat on the edge of the tub. It beeped a second later and she groaned when she saw that it read 101 degrees. Her head was beginning to pound, and it was all she could do to carry the wastebasket into her bedroom and flop onto her bed. She picked up her phone and dialed a very familiar number.

"House," he grumbled angrily, "and this better be important, I was having a very naughty dream."

"You owe me," she said, taking for granted that he would know who it was. "And don't you dare try to get out of this, by saying it is the middle of the night. You owe me."

"I'll be right over."


End file.
